"God moves in mysterious way, His wonders to perform;
He lanes his footsteps in the sea and rides upon the storm.
Deep in unfathomable mins of never failing skill,
He treasures up His bright designs and works his sovereign will.
Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take, the clouds ye so much dread
Are big with mercy and shall break in blessings on your head.
Judge not the lord by feeble sense but trust him for his grace
Behind a frowning providence He hides a smiling face
His purpose will ripen fast, unfolding every hour;
The bud may have a bitter taste but sweet will be the flower.
Blind unbelief is sure to err, and scan his work in vain;
God is his own interpreter and He will make it plain."
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